


Sight Seeing

by FBIEpidemic



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Hurt Tony Stark, Iron Dad, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 05:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18230753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FBIEpidemic/pseuds/FBIEpidemic
Summary: Tony nearly blinds himself in a lab accident, chaos and misfortune ensueTony is always looking after and saving Peter in fics, what happens when Peter has to take care of his IronDad?





	Sight Seeing

Pepper is sitting on the sofa ‘tinkering’ as Tony would call it. She has his tablet, stolen from his nightstand where he left it yesterday morning, also known as the last time he slept. It’s also the last time she slept too. She hasn’t been able to turn away from any projects since she sat down. Running Tony’s company is exhausting and running Tony’s actual life is even worse. They’re both a mess.

“Rhodey-” Pepper sighs, rubbing at her forehead and flicking through another pdf on the falling stocks. “He’s fine. Peter’s good for him.” She tucks the phone between her shoulder and chin, standing up and making her way to the kitchen. She stops walking when she sees a miscalculation in the math of the framework. “He hasn’t slept since he was nine, you shared a dorm with him, you know that.”

She’s halfway between the living room and the kitchen when an explosion sounds from the garage. 

“Tony?” The tablet and phone are left on the floor where she dropped them. She runs down the stairs, her heart in her throat. Explosions come a lot for Tony, he does most on purpose. He likes to surprise her and when he does, he’s always right there. He’s giggling in her ear, bounding up the stairs, or jumping around the corner. 

When she rounds the corner she expects to have him reach out to grab her, to scar her. She just comes to stand at the see-through doors. He’s not there at the glass, eyes wide with pride in his prank. 

He’s on the other side of the door. She can see his jean-clad legs, how they’re bent underneath him. He’s not playing.

“Tony,” she throws the door open, Friday doesn’t scream at her about toxic gas so she approaches with little worry to her own health and near panic level about Tony’s. He’s the one with a questionable heart and lungs that haven’t been right since he was a kid. 

She touches his face, glad that at least his skin is warm. The drum of his heart under her fingers before she can even find a real pulse point grounds her further. She touches his cheek, trying to pull him from his stupor. 

His eyes open and his arms come up. No doubt, he’s trying to protect himself from a horror that his mind has convinced him is real and touching him. 

She steadies his body with hers pulling his shoulders to her chest and securing his wrist to his chest. She’s learned the position by heart after New York. She counts to ten, out loud. She steadies herself and worries when Tony doesn’t naturally fall back with her. “Tony, breathe. It’s just me. It’s just us.”

He struggles to pull one of his hands from his chest. She’s unsure about what to do. He seems to be panicking that he can’t move his arms but at the same time he always fights her grasp during attacks. 

He lets out a strangled sob and she releases the arm. It comes up to his head and she almost reaches back up to stop him but then she sees he’s rubbing at his eyes. He pushes back from her, almost wiggling away, and writhes in her arms. 

“Tony?” Her hands find him and he flinches away. “Fri-”

“Boss’ heart rate is dangerously high but other than mild agitation to the skin on his back, my systems cannot detect any cause for Boss’ reaction.” Friday’s voice startles Tony and he turns, eyes wide and searching. Pepper aligns herself with his head but his eyes don’t focus on her, they don’t even land on her. 

“F-Friday?” Tony’s shaky breath scares Pepper more than she’d like to admit. “Did you run an ocular scan? I-I…” 

Pepper can hear the unsteady tremor in Tony’s voice and she can’t help the worry that bubbles up. 

“Heart rate is still elevated, the irritation on your back boss looks to be fading, but an ocular scan, per your request, shows some damage to both corneas.” Friday falls silent for a moment before adding,” permanent injury appears unlikely but I have notified Dr. Chu of the fact that your pupils are not reacting to the lighting in the garage. ETA five minutes.”

“Thanks, baby girl.” 

Pepper watches Tony visibly sink in on himself. 

“Tony?” She reaches out and touches his hand. He turns his head and his eyes search for her but ultimately land on the floor. She squeezes his hand and takes note of the bruises forming around his right eye. “Tony, can you see anything?”

He seems to study the floor, his eyes moving along the tile, an illusion of control or maybe just sight. Slowly she gets her response, two short jerks of his head. “Not a thing.”

 

 

“Shit, Peter!” 

Peter pauses. Happy dropped him off about half an hour ago but Friday didn’t announce his arrival because Tony had told her it was annoying. Everyone knew when Peter was coming to the tower so the IA was just bothering him with information he already knew. 

Because he does the same thing every day, he came in through the kitchen window. He threw his book bag on the counter and ate one of the muffins from the tin that he figured Tony left out earlier. When he was done, he put them where they belonged and made his way back to his bedroom. 

Except, he didn’t make it there. 

“Tony?” Tony comes stumbling out of his bedroom as Peter passes, Peter stops both of them from falling with reflexes he can only attribute to several years as Spiderman and maybe a small but of just being around Tony. “What happ-”

“Lab explosion,” the sweatpants Tony has on look too large for his thin frame. They cling to his hips by the drawstring is drawn tight around his waist, his t-shirt does little to hide how thin he’s become. “Don’t worry about it Spider-Butt.” Tony grins at him, his cheeks wrinkling the bandage edges up. “It’s just some temporary blindness. Dr. Chu already came by, fussed at me, and I should be good as new tomorrow. So, you can web your way back home, Roo, your old man isn’t dying today.”

Tony means this to be reassuring but nothing about the matter is. 

Peter’s entire body shakes with tension. His spider senses almost ache with overload. He can smell the blood on Tony’s elbow from the IV that he pulled out. The flammable gases that still linger on Tony’s skin. The faint scent of burnt hair and oil on Tony’s hands. His stomach rolls. 

“There is something you can do though,” Tony suggest, his right hand moving to find the wall. His vision seems to be blocked out by the bandage that he assumes Dr. Chu secured. He finds the wall and begins to move past Peter, only moving forward because Peter steps aside. “I’m starving, get me a scotch.”

Peter rolls his eyes, knowing very well that his mentor's sobriety means a lot ot not only Tony but to Pepper too. “How about a PB&J or a ham sandwich?”

Tony stops and nods,” I only want the ham sandwich if we have those chips-” Tony demonstrates an opening and closing with his fingers, as if this somehow demonstrates the type of chip he wants.

“Doritos?” Peter offers and Tony nods. “Okay, I can do that.” Eager to please, Peter jogs down the steps and into the kitchen. Everything is where it should be and he doesn’t even have to think about how to make Tony a sandwich. However, for the sake of time he elects to leave the usual tomato off. 

“Tony?” He goes back down the hall, looking everywhere he can think to on the level with their rooms. “Friday?”

The AI waste no time in giving her creators location away. After all, he never told her she wasn’t allowed to tell Peter thing likes that. “Boss is on the roof.” Her tone, as if Tony had programmed it to do so, seems to disapprove of this course of action. 

Peter can’t help but agree. Leaving the sandwiches on the coffee table in the hall, he heads for the roof. 

“Tony?” Peter opens the roof’s door, propping it open with a nearby rock. “What the-” Peter turns from making sure the door is propped open when he sees a white bobbing stick in Tony’s mouth. A cigarette.

Tony has struggled with his breathing for years and that’s only from what Peter has seen. Due to the Arc Reactor placement some of his lung was taken out. The damage from frequent abuse of the reactor due to bad guys and tripping and taking it out to fix it, is more severe. His lung capacity is at an unhealthy level and if he weren’t Tony Stark they would have probably hooked him up to oxygen machines.

“Pete?”

Peter has to force himself to breath at an acceptable pace. The practice and method that he puts to practice doing that makes him think back to when Tony had pneumonia only two months ago. The two weeks he spent in the hospital. Four days on the ventilator. The weeks of physical therapy. 

“It’s me, Tony. I’m coming up behind you.” Peter puts a hand on Tony’s bicep and the man grins at him around the candy cigarette in his mouth. 

He reaches out and Peter takes his hand,” want one, Pete? They’re good.” He shakes the flimsy cartridge they come in and Peter rolls his eyes but takes one of the candies and sticks it in his mouth. Tony’s right, they are good.

“It’s cold out here,” Peter notes, stepping closer to Tony and wrapping his jacket tighter around his arms. The older man shivers in agreeance but makes no move to go back inside. “What are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Tony nods his head. 

Dr. Chu left specific instructions to get some rest until all his test came back. He could have a ‘blast concussion’ as she called it or a million other things all varying on how hard he hit his head, the chemicals he’d been messing with, or how his body handles the stress of an injury. 

Plus, he feels sluggish and nauseous. Both happen to be symptoms that he’s supposed to report to Dr. Chu but instead he came up here. The cool air is bringing him back to the world, a world he can’t see but he’d rather have his mind tricking him than his body. He’s used to the lies his mind tells him.

“Do you want me to take you back down? Hmm?” Peter moves his hand away from Tony’s and up the older man’s bare arm. “You’re shivering. You’re going to get sick.” 

Tony nods in agreeance but finds his legs are like jello from physical strain of standing for so long. 

Peter easily compensates and wraps Tony’s arm around his shoulder, easing them both into a tilted slow march back inside. “You’re sweating. Did Dr. Chu say anything about a fever when she was here earlier?”

Peter keeps his mentor tight to his side, making sure Tony doesn't bump into the wall or fall down the stairs. He’s not even sure how he made it up here to begin with. 

“I don’t remember,” Tony mumbles softly, his head tilting back and his legs offering almost no help now in walking. “Pete? What happened? I can’t-I can’t see a damn thing?”

Peter stops walking and looks at his mentor. Confusion is fusing Tony’s eyebrows together and Tony struggles with his body to get his other hand to his face. He pulls on the bandage and Peter does his best to move Tony. “Hey, Tony stop. Tony!”

Tony stops touching the bandage and his knees give out. They land in a heap, Peter barely managing to keep them from toppling down the stairs. “Friday-”

“Already on it, Peter. Ms. Potts is on her way and Dr. Chu has been notified.”

Peter returns his attention to his mentor. 

Now up close and personal, Peter can see that Tony is sweating through his thin white t-shirt. The bandage around his head is dirty with sweat dripping down his head and Peter feels guilt creeping in. He should have known something wasn’t right. Tony never tells Peter if he’s sick, he never wears sweatpants, and he never lets Peter make him food. 

“Peter?” Tony’s breathing is regressing into congested rasps. His voice edges on weak and hoarse but his right hand moves just enough that understands he wants him closer. “I’m sorry.” 

Peter feels panic taking over. His mind clouded by thoughts and no plans of action. His skin that's touching Tony burns. Anxiety, panic he can't tell the difference. 

“Tony?” He shakes his mentor's shoulder, smacking gently at a scruffy cheek. “Tony? Come on.” Tony's hand slips farther down the stairs, his eyes shut. “No. Come on.” 

Peter races to find a pulse, any indication that his wild imagination isn't right. Pulse points. Bruce taught him them a while ago. Sometime during his Anatomy course. He didn't need to know it but he got Bruce going one afternoon and the next thing he knew Clint was hostage in the garage being used as a dummy. 

Brachial.

Temporal.

Dorsal.

Femoral.

Radial.

Carotid. 

“You're forgetting Posterior Tibular.”

Peter jerks at the sudden intrusion. No longer alone on the steps as Bruce hovers over Tony and Pepper stands to the side. Her nails are in her mouth, chewing them down even though she’d been working on growing them out. 

Each day she would show Tony her nails, expecting him to over the moon and at first he pretended to be because he was excited that she was excited. Peter was amused by the interactions whenever he was around to see it. It was like when Ben was still alive. Like Aunt May and Ben gushing and hugging over each other, disgusting him with their relationships and antics.

“Do you always chant pulse points to yourself?” Bruce’s glasses have slid down his nose, he's not poking fun when he asks him about the pulse points. Doesn't matter, Peter feels himself dissociating from the situation. 

His nightmares come to life behind his eyes. Hands are coming out from everywhere. A muffled voice calls out his name. Tony's blood runs down his hands. A voice chants his guilt.

_“It's your fault.”_

_“Your fault.”_

_“Your fault.”_

_“Your fault.”_

_“Your fault.”_

“Easy.” There really are hands on him. A set hold his chest down, stopping his arms from thrashing like he wants to. Another hand holds an oxygen masks to his face. The cool breeze under his nose hurts but it forces his breathing to continue. “Pete, easy.”

A thin hand rest on his back. Not Tony. Not Bruce.

It moves between his shoulder blades, rubbing at the tight muscles. 

Pepper. 

“At least the kid’s alright.” A deep rumble comes from Peter’s left and he manages to focus himself just enough to see faint, large object that has to be Happy. Rhodey is besides him and Bruce beside him. He can tell because Rhodey is wearing a baby blue t-shirt and Bruce is wearing his favorite yellow sweater. Happy is in a black suit. 

“Shit.” Peter mumbles, his heart rate picking up as his brain catches up with days events and exactly why it is that he’s sitting in an ER with an oxygen mask wrapped around his head and Pepper softly rubbing circles on his back. 

“Language, you’re too young to talk like that” Happy grumbles.

Happy’s in a mood.

“Peter sweetie,” Pepper says from somewhere behind him,” I understand you don’t feel well but maybe you shouldn't poke fun of Happy. Not while he’s around, hmm?”

He said that out loud. Great.

“Sorry, Happy.” Peter pulls from the warmth of Pepper, not realizing how warm the woman was keeping him in the freezing ER until he’s sitting up. “Where’s… Where’s Tony at? We were on the steps-it was too cold-he had a fever but he wasn’t sweating and then he was a lot and-”

Pepper is back behind him and suddenly Peter wonders when she pulled the mask from his face or where it went at all because-

“Peter, we can’t take you anywhere until you calm down.” Pepper holds the oxygen mask in her hand, a light threat of health… she does the same thing to Tony.

Peter nods his head, his breathing calming once again, and his shoulders stop trembling. He hadn’t even noticed that they were doing that. 

Still looking at his hands Bruce appears by his side with a cup of something hot that doesn’t smell like coffee. Bruce presses it into Peter’s hands,” drink. It’s a little bitter at first but it always helps me after… after the other guy.” Bruce leans closer and Peter can smell the faint scent of the man’s cologne, a soft scent that fits him well. “It helps Tony too, after attacks.”

Anxiety attacks Peter realizes after a moment and he gives the tea a tentative sip. It is bitter but something, Peter suspects honey, quickly washes the taste away. The warmth of the tea travels up his arms and as if his blood was transporting it, his chest feels laden with warmth and comfort he breathes with his first easy breath since he woke up. 

Rhodey comes to stand in front of Peter, Pepper reaches out and touches his hand, he lets her take it. “Tony is sedated for the time being. The temporary damage done to his eyes stressed his body out and what you saw was-was not one of Tony’s best moments.” Rhodey shifts on his feet and for a fleeting moment Peter sees a hitch in a gear and starts thinking of a way to fix that. Rhodey can’t even shift on his feet all the way. They’d have to fix that.

“To prevent any more stress,” Rhodey says a little louder, noticing the way Peter’s attention zeroed in on his knees. He doesn’t take offense, Tony does the same thing. “Do you understand what that means Peter?”

Peter can feels his shoulders start to shake again but he nods his head. “You’re telling me that I’m a mess at the moment and that I have to get my crap together so that I don’t give Tony a heart attack. Terribly ironic seeing that he constantly jokes about me ‘almost’ doing that all the time.” Peter lets out a shaky breath,” not that funny now that I might.”

Pepper shakes her head,” no. Honey, we’re warning you. The best thing for Tony right now is knowing that you’re alright.” She places a hand on his shoulder, it tilts his world to the side. Pepper smiles and brushes a curl from his face,” it's completely up to you. If you want-”

Peter nods,” yeah. I want to go see him. Why wouldn't- Of course I-”

“Peter,” a steady hand guides him back down. “Please, we can’t take you until you’re calm.”

Peter nods, letting out a shaky breath and handing his lukewarm tea off. “I-I’m ready.” 

Except he isn’t.

This isn’t anything like when Tony had pneumonia or when he gets a little banged up in combat. 

“If you can’t do this-”

Peter keeps walking, a little bit more determined now that Rhodey’s worried and it only makes the creases in the man’s forehead deepen. Mostly because Rhodey wonders how someone who looks nothing like Tony, who can not possibly be related to Tony can act so much like him.

“Tony?” He announces his presence first, he knows to do that well enough. Still, Tony flinches and he moves his head. The bandage is still there, a new one Peter notices. “It’s me-”

“Pete.”

“Yeah,” Peter comes to the side of the bed. He slowly takes Tony’s hand and immediately hates how sluggish his mentor is. They shouldn’t drug him. It’ll only make things worse later when it all hits Tony at once. They can’t gradually ease him in like this. “I noticed this-uhm-hitch in Rhodey’s knee gear. I think if we use the nonbinding metalloid to cap it next time, it should get rid of it.”

Tony nods and Peter wishes he could see his eyes, to judge Tony’s emotions but they’re masterfully hidden. “You’re probably right. They also make too much noise-”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, shooting a sheepish grin at Rhodey. “I haven’t figured how to fix that yet.”

Tony nods,” I’ve been working on that for some time.”

They talk for some time, Bruce, Rhodey and Pepper all watching silently. Long after Bruce has left and Rhodey and Peter have fallen asleep Pepper climbs onto the bed beside Tony. She takes his hand in hers and they lay in silence. 

“Pepper?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you take the bandage off? Just.. let me try?”

Tony thinks she’s going to shoot him down but then he feels her nimble fingers pull at the edges. Slowly it comes off and he can see. Blurred images and red hair but he can see. He can't’ hold back a relieved sigh. “Have I ever told you, you’re breathtaking?”

Pepper laughs but he can _see_ the tears in her eyes, the relief that’s flooding through her face in the form of a soft flush. 

“I love you, Pepper.”

She takes his face softly between her hands, looking into his eyes, and smiles. She places a soft kiss on his lips and he hopes the moment will never end but she pulls away. Her cheeks a little redder and her eyes a little softer. “I love you too, Tony.”


End file.
